Chapter XXV: Robineau’s Marriage

Alfred reflected all the rest of the night upon what the vagabond had told him; he did not know whether he ought to disturb Edouard’s happiness by telling him what he had learned concerning Isaure’s conduct. Before dealing him so terrible a blow, before letting loose in his heart all the demons of jealousy, was it not his duty to assure himself of the truth? Alfred determined not to allow Edouard to form any indissoluble bond until he had solved the mystery; but he did not feel as yet the courage to afflict his friend. Moreover, that day they would be too busy with Robineau’s wedding to have opportunity to talk together alone.

Edouard himself had had to make a great sacrifice that day: he was not to visit Isaure, for Robineau had entreated him not to leave the château; he had selected him to escort his sister-in-law, for the order of the ceremony had been arranged long before. Robineau desired that everybody should be present; and even then he thought that there would not be enough witnesses of his good fortune. Edouard felt that it would be discourteous to his host to refuse to comply with his wishes; so that he would be all day without seeing Isaure. That day would seem very, very long to him! But, when one goes into society, one must often sacrifice to it one’s dearest pleasures.

At ten o’clock, the whole company was to assemble for breakfast, to which were invited as witnesses the Chevalier de Tantignac, Monsieur Berlingue, and an old annuitant, a friend of the marquis. The three carriages at the château, that is to say, the post-chaise, Robineau’s char-à-bancs, and the marquis’s chariot, were to take the company to the town, where the ceremony would take place; then they were to return to the château, where only a few persons were invited to dinner; and there would be no dancing in the evening, it being too vulgar.

The servants had donned their fine livery; Monsieur Férulus had had the metal buttons sewn on his coat, and he had a piece of poetry in each pocket. Robineau was in black from head to foot; he held himself very stiffly and did not laugh; because his father-in-law, the marquis, had told him that one could not have too solemn an expression on his wedding-day; lastly, Uncle Mignon had laid in a stock of pins, which he had concealed under the cuffs of his coat, because he thought that on a wedding-day there would inevitably be something that would need to be pinned.

The three guests had arrived. Alfred and Edouard, who had sacrificed their day, would have been glad to infuse a little merriment into the occasion; but Monsieur de la Pincerie, who had joined them in the salon, seemed to wear an even more disagreeable expression than usual; and Robineau, to imitate his father-in-law, assumed a melancholy or sentimental air. They exchanged a few complimentary remarks in such a serious tone that they seemed to have come together to follow a hearse. However, Monsieur Berlingue had already uttered some spiteful remarks in a low tone, and the chevalier had relieved himself of a few falsehoods, when the ladies appeared at last.

Cornélie wore a very elaborate dress; and although she did not seem by her expression to be seeking to attract homage, she deserved a great deal. At sight of her, Robineau stepped back and grasped Alfred by the arm, exclaiming:

"Mon Dieu! how dazzling she is!"

The witnesses echoed his words. Monsieur de la Pincerie stepped forward to take his daughter’s arm; then, leading her toward Robineau, he said to him in a majestic and almost threatening tone:

"Monsieur de la Roche-Noire, I bestow upon you a most magnificent young lady, perfectly well-bred, and the descendant of an illustrious family. I flatter myself that you will render yourself worthy of the honor of this alliance. But if I should learn that my daughter was not happy, that she had reason to complain of her husband! Corbleu! Monsieur de la Roche-Noire, then I should have something to say to you!"

"She shall be happy, my dear father-in-law, she shall be happy, and so shall I too, I flatter myself!" cried Robineau, who seemed to be afraid of being whipped if he were not good. "But breakfast is awaiting us, and all our moments are occupied."

They adjourned to the breakfast table. Eudoxie, who was determined that some attention should be paid to her as well, had a slight attack of hysteria while they were eating the cutlets; but it amounted to nothing, and she warned the guests that she might have several during the day, because a marriage ceremony caused her the greatest emotion. The gentlemen, whose appetites were not taken away by this accident, encouraged her by telling her that they were well provided with flasks. Monsieur Berlingue, who had nothing in his, filled it with water; but he declared that that would produce the same effect as ether; and the Chevalier de Tantignac exhibited a small phial carefully bestowed in a leather case, with the contents of which he claimed to have restored more than twenty people to life.

Toward the end of the breakfast, Monsieur Férulus pulled a huge roll of paper from his pocket and was preparing to read, when monsieur le marquis said in a solemn tone:

"It is time to start for the town."

Monsieur Férulus pocketed his poetry again. Everybody rose; Robineau, who dared not offer his hand to his future bride, before whom he constantly kept his eyes on the floor, for fear of being dazzled too much, allowed Edouard to escort Cornélie to the chariot, in which he took his place with her, her father and her sister. Alfred and the three witnesses took the char-à-bancs; and Robineau entered the post-chaise with Uncle Mignon and Monsieur Férulus, who, as soon as he was seated in the carriage, began to rehearse his poetry, to which only Mignon listened, scratching his nose and showing his teeth the while.

But the post-chaise was drawn by the lame horse, and could not keep up with the other two carriages, which went quite fast. When Robineau could no longer see the marquis’s chariot in front of him, he cried:

"Ah! Mon Dieu! I shall be late; my bride will have to wait for me, and that will be very disagreeable!"

"Monseigneur," said Férulus, "you may be sure that the ceremony will not begin without you."

"Of course not; but monsieur le marquis will scold me."

"It is not our fault if our horse will not go any faster."

"That is true; Uncle Mignon, you are a witness that it is the horse’s fault."

"Yes, yes, yes!" replied Mignon; "oh, yes! it is the horse."

"This wretched beast isn’t going to be married," said Robineau, lashing the poor creature with all his might.

"Perhaps if he were, he would go still lamer," said Férulus in an undertone.

"Ah! one’s wedding-day is a great day, messieurs!" said Robineau with a sigh.

"It is a day which serves as a memento, monseigneur.--_Est pater ille quem nuptiæ demonstrant_."

"Yes, yes, yes!" assented Mignon with a smile.

"I confess," continued Robineau, "that I thought myself stronger, more stoical; but it is true that my bride is so ravishing--it upsets me so--I am all of a tremble.--I beg pardon, messieurs, but let us stop a moment, if you please."

He stopped the horse, which asked nothing better. Then he alighted and stepped a hedge, while Monsieur Férulus observed:

"‘_Homo sum et humani a me nihil alienum puto!_’"

Robineau returned; they started off again, and he lashed the horse as before. Férulus tried to continue his declamation, but Robineau stopped him, saying:

"Later, my dear librarian; at dinner; I am in no condition to listen to you now. Love and happiness produce a peculiar effect upon my senses! You don’t know what that is; you have never married, perhaps?"

"I beg your pardon, monseigneur; I was married once, and I have had enough of it."

"And you, Uncle Mignon, were you ever married?"

"I! no, I don’t think so. Oh, no! no! that has never happened to me."

"Ah! when one has a heart so easily touched as mine, it produces a complete revolution. My bride is a perfect Venus, she is built like Minerva; and when I think that to-night--I beg pardon--let us stop again, if you please."

They stopped; Robineau alighted once more and glided behind a clump of trees. Monsieur Férulus took a pinch of snuff, and cried:

"‘_Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque recurret!_’"

Robineau soon reappeared; they drove on, and tried to make up for lost time by whipping the horse; but he went none the faster for it, and the bridegroom was in despair.

"Monsieur le marquis will be terribly angry," he said; "I am sure that they are at the mayor’s office already, and are waiting for us. Messieurs, you are my witnesses that it is the horse’s fault."

"There is another cause, too," said Férulus to Mignon, "but we will not mention that."

They were within a fourth of a league of Saint-Amand, when Robineau called another halt and alighted again, crying out:

"This is really cruel! I don’t know what it means!"

"Courage, monsieur!" said Férulus: "‘_Labor improbus omnia vincit!_’"

"What on earth is the matter with him that he has to get out so often?" Mignon asked Férulus when Robineau was out of hearing.

"The matter with him! Why, haven’t you guessed yet? Parbleu! he has a _bilis suffusio!_ he says it’s the effect of love. At all events, if it lasts twenty-four hours, it will put him in a very false position!"

Robineau returned, reëntered the carriage and they reached the town at last. The bridegroom inquired for his father-in-law’s chariot, and was told that for more than half an hour, the bride, her relatives, and the whole company had been waiting for him at the mayor’s office, and that they had already sent back two messengers to find out what could have become of him.

Robineau drove toward the mayor’s office, lashing his horse and crying:

"What will they say to me? perhaps monsieur le marquis feels insulted! And my bride! suppose that she should be angry with me! fortunately my friends are with her."

They arrived at the mayor’s office. The marquis was pacing the main hall with an angry expression; the young men were chatting with the ladies; Monsieur Berlingue had already made several epigrams upon the bridegroom’s delay; the old annuitant did not utter a word, he saw in the future only the repast that he was to enjoy; and the Chevalier de Tantignac observed, to pacify Monsieur de la Pincerie:

"At the wedding of a cousin of mine, the bridegroom kept us waiting five minutes only; but when he arrived his betrothed had married another man, to teach him to be more prompt in the future."

But Robineau appeared, followed by his two companions.

"Monsieur de la Roche-Noire," cried the marquis, tapping the floor with his cane, "do you know that it isn’t decent to keep people like us waiting?"

"My dear father-in-law, it isn’t----"

"Whom do you think you are marrying? Do you imagine that you are marrying a mere plebeian?"

"No, certainly not, monsieur le marquis; but I----"

"But you deserve that I should not bestow my daughter’s hand upon you, to teach you to keep us baying at the moon for an hour."

"My most honored father-in-law, here are my witnesses. Ask your brother and Monsieur Férulus, and they will tell you that if I did not arrive earlier it was not for lack of desire to do so."

"That is very true," said Férulus; "it was not the desire that was lacking."

"It was our horse’s fault entirely," continued Robineau; "it was he who defeated our impatience."

"Yes, yes," said Mignon, "it was the horse and--a _bilis suffu_----"

Robineau trod upon Mignon’s foot, and bruised two corns, to keep him quiet; on the contrary, it made him shriek like one possessed; but nobody listened to him, and they proceeded to the civil ceremonies, during which the bridegroom seemed decidedly ill at ease, which condition was attributed to excitement and joy. Then they left the mayor’s office and reëntered the carriages to go to the church, although it was only two steps away; but it would not have been seemly to have arrived there on foot. But the bridegroom did not enter his carriage; he disappeared on leaving the mayor’s office, and they arrived at the church without him. There monsieur le marquis noticed that his son-in-law was absent again, and as the church was filled with people, and as in a small town a wedding is a great event, Monsieur de la Pincerie was furious with Robineau, who had spoiled the triumphal entry, and compelled the ceremony to be suspended.

"Where is he, where is he now?" cried the marquis, while Cornélie glanced over the crowd, saying:

"Why, this is inconceivable! it is absolutely indecent! to keep us waiting twice in succession! If the affair had not gone so far, I would break it all off!"

"Why did you leave him?" Monsieur de la Pincerie asked his brother Mignon and Férulus.

"We did not leave him, it was he who left us, saying: ‘Go on, I will overtake you.’"

"But what the deuce can he have to do at the very moment of his wedding?"

Mignon scratched his nose and Férulus compressed his lips.

"Love has turned his brain," said Alfred.

"Monsieur, the proprieties and etiquette should go before love. Corbleu! If I had not formed the plan of marrying my daughter--But he doesn’t come! he cannot say this time that it was the horse that detained him."

At last Robineau appeared, flushed and perspiring and gasping for breath; he glided to the side of his bride and his father-in-law; the latter seized his hand and squeezed it fiercely, saying in his ear:

"Monsieur, you will give me satisfaction after the ceremony."

Robineau no longer knew where he was; luckily for him, the contracting parties were summoned to the altar. He walked thither with Cornélie; the ceremony began, and while it was in progress, Monsieur de la Pincerie, who had become calmer, reflected that it would not be proper to challenge his son-in-law on the very day of his wedding.

The ceremony was at an end. Cornélie had become Madame de la Roche-Noire, and Robineau had ceased to be a bachelor. They received the compliments, the congratulations, sincere or insincere, of the persons who had come to witness the nuptial benediction; then they left the town and returned to the château, still in the same order as in the former journey; but Robineau did not stop the carriage once.

It was four o’clock when they reached the château. The ladies went at once to their apartments to change their dresses; for women who go much into society, who attend many fêtes and balls and ceremonies, spend a large part of their life in dressing and undressing.

About a dozen persons who were invited to the dinner soon joined the company already assembled at the château. At each new arrival, monsieur le marquis took Robineau by the hand and went forward to meet those who entered the salon, saying solemnly:

"I present my son-in-law to you."

Thereupon the newcomers would congratulate the marquis, then Robineau, and after looking about to see if there were anyone else to congratulate, would take seats in the salon. But it seemed as if all those people had agreed beforehand not to smile, and as if it were the general opinion in the provinces that it was bad form to be cheerful on a wedding-day. So that it was necessary to try to kill time by talking upon insignificant subjects with people who were able to discuss nothing else. Alfred did what he could to enliven the conversation; but he himself was disturbed, and the remembrance of his experience in the tower occupied his mind more than Robineau’s marriage. Edouard, too, tried to make himself agreeable, but he cursed under his breath the length of the day.

Two hours had elapsed since the ladies had gone upstairs, when they finally appeared in the salon. Cornélie’s costume was more coquettish than that of the morning, and this time Robineau was so dazzled that he was obliged to sit down for fear that he would be dizzy. The compliments began to circulate anew. During the curtsies and the salutations, Robineau went to a corner of the salon to rub his temples with cologne; then he returned with a somewhat less timid air to his wife, who was attentive to everybody but her husband.

Monsieur Férulus, who had not yet delivered his congratulations to the newly-married pair, because he was waiting until all the company should be assembled, took his place in front of Cornélie, before whom he bowed to the floor, and presented her with a roll of paper tied with pink ribbons, saying:

"Permit me, madame, while adding the incense of my good wishes to the perfume of the congratulations which have already shed fragrance upon your passage, to dedicate to you this trifle, born of your marriage. May Laughter and Sport gambol ever about your couch! and may heaven bestow upon you children, masculine, feminine and neuter, whose tutor I shall be!"

The librarian’s offering created a great sensation; the men smiled, the ladies asked one another in undertones what neuter children were; and Robineau, who had gone once more to rub his temples with cologne, seemed to have resolved that he would procreate no others.

Cornélie took the paper with a patronizing air, and then returned it to Férulus, saying:

"You must read it to us at dessert."

The servants having announced that dinner was served, the company passed into the dining-room, marching in time, like Prussian soldiers.

Monsieur de la Pincerie appropriated the great armchair. Cornélie was seated opposite her husband, and Férulus was relegated to the further end of the table, where he was not allowed either to serve or to carve; such was the order of things established by Madame de la Roche-Noire, who did not seem particularly touched by the verses which the scholar had written for her. Monsieur Férulus said nothing; he devoured that affront in secret, and determined to eat, if possible, four times as much as usual. People who endure humiliation in order to enjoy a good dinner always have little courage and much appetite.

The dinner passed off as seriously as all that had gone before. The first course was interrupted only by a slight accident: Monsieur Mignon came near swallowing a pin which had fallen from his sleeve into his plate; but they succeeded in removing it from his throat with small pincers, and tranquillity was soon restored.

Mademoiselle Cheval had surpassed herself; the repast was magnificent. But Robineau ate little; he seemed absent-minded and restless; and when he looked at his wife, he heaved sighs capable of extinguishing the candles. Cornélie had already assumed the manners of the mistress of the house: she issued orders in a tone which announced to the servants that they must walk straight. As they did not intend to dance after dinner, and as it was probable that the evening would be rather tedious, they remained a long time at table. Toward the close of the banquet, the fumes of the wines, which were frequently changed, enlivened the guests a bit. The old annuitant recounted an ancient jest or two in an undertone; the Chevalier de Tantignac declared that he would give half his fortune to be in Robineau’s place; and Monsieur Berlingue declared that his fortune was as fabulous as his horse. Robineau drank a great deal, to banish his timidity, and to muster courage to look at his wife; and even Uncle Mignon, who had forgotten his accident, became animated and talked a little; lastly, monsieur le marquis laughed more than once at the jokes which he made, and which he alone understood.

Monsieur Férulus thought that the time had come for him to read his poetry; he looked at Robineau to know whether he should begin; but it was no longer Robineau who gave orders, it was Madame de la Roche-Noire. However, Cornélie herself said:

"Monsieur has, I believe, something to read to us; I trust that it will not be so long as his last ballad."

"I flatter myself, madame, that you will find, on the contrary, that it is too short," replied Férulus, who was not overjoyed at this reference to his last ballad. Then, taking the roll from his pocket, and untying the ribbon, he rose and began:

"Compliment in verse in honor of the union of the newly-married pair."

"It seems to me, monsieur," said the marquis, "that you would have done well to say: the union of Mademoiselle Cornélie, daughter of the Marquis de la Pincerie, with Monsieur de la Roche-Noire; that would have been more becoming than to say ‘the newly-married pair,’ exactly as if you were talking about Jacquot and Pierrette!"

"My noble father-in-law is right," said Robineau, "I don’t like ‘the newly-married pair.’"

"Monsieur," replied Férulus, dissembling his mortification, "that phrase is strictly grammatical; you will find it in Lhomond, in Wailly, in Boiste, and in all the dictionaries."

"Oh! for heaven’s sake, monsieur, don’t talk about dictionaries!" cried Eudoxie; "it seems to me that to-day you should talk to us of something pleasant and attractive."

"Therefore, madame," continued Férulus, "I have taken for the text of my trifle, this line from Propertius:

"‘Nec domina ulla meo ponet vestigia lecto.’"

"And what may that mean?" said Cornélie; "for it seems to me that you would do better to give us a translation of it."

"Yes," said Robineau, "he is a terrible fellow for that! I have told him a hundred times that I cared for nothing but translations."

"Madame," rejoined Férulus, with an amiable smile, "that means: ‘No other mistress shall disturb my bed.’"

"Mon Dieu! how shocking! how indecent!" cried Eudoxie, hiding her face behind Alfred’s shoulder.

"What, monsieur!" said Cornélie; "you presume to compose such loose verses!"

"Madame, I have the honor to inform you that the author is Propertius, and that----"

"No mistress in his bed!" cried the Marquis de la Pincerie. "Corbleu! I would like to see--Son-in-law, what is the meaning of this allusion?"

"I swear to you, father-in-law, that I have no idea," said Robineau; "I do not understand Monsieur Férulus’s motive in perpetrating such a wretched jest!"

"Monsieur," said Férulus, "I say again that that is the translation of the line, and that----"

"Very well, monsieur, that will do," said Cornélie; "after such a beginning, I do not care to hear any more! If the remainder corresponds with the text, it cannot be repeated to ladies."

"But, madame, allow me to call your attention----"

"No remarks, monsieur," said Monsieur de la Pincerie, rising from his chair as if he proposed to chastise the scholar; "you have been told that your poem is good for nothing. I am inclined to think that you are not here to lay down the law, monsieur!"

Férulus dropped back on his chair, crumpled the paper in his hands and threw it under the table; and, stuffing three macaroons into his mouth at once in his wrath, he narrowly escaped swallowing his tongue. Uncle Mignon, who had drunk more than usual, and had been moving about uneasily on his chair for half an hour, began to laugh.

"I, too, have made up a little ballad for my niece," he said. "It came into my head at the dinner-table. It’s an impromptu."

"Let us hear Mignon’s ballad," said Monsieur de la Pincerie. "The devil! I didn’t know that he wrote poetry.--Sing, Mignon."

Everybody was silent, and Mignon sang, playing with his napkin the while:

"Sois heureuse, ma nièce,
C’est du meilleur de mon âme;
Lorsque j’admire tes yeux,
Turc lure!
Il me semble être à la noce!
Robin turelure lure!"

"Bravo! very good!" cried the marquis; and everybody applauded, laughed and called for an encore. Mignon repeated his verses, and Monsieur de la Pincerie observed:

"There you have the genuine French ballad--after the style of our fathers. They are blank verses, to be sure, but they are none the less agreeable."

Férulus, his discomfiture completed by the success of Monsieur Mignon’s ballad, muttered between his teeth:

"If one of my scholars had written that thing, he would have been whipped every day for a fortnight!"

The company left the table to go to the salon. Férulus alone did not go thither; he went off to bed, saying to himself:

"They needn’t expect me to play whist. I won’t open my door."

But a whist table was made up without the librarian; there was also a game of piquet and one of chess; in fact, the evening passed very quietly, and one might have thought that the host and hostess had been married twenty years.

But Robineau, who had obtained leave not to play, left the salon several times; he still seemed restless and distraught, although, as he looked at his wife, he kept repeating:

"She has never seemed to me so fascinating as she does to-night! My love is becoming more and more passionate."

In one of his excursions from the salon, Robineau went to his apartment, which his wife was to occupy with him thenceforth. It was quite cold, but no fire had been built in the nuptial chamber, and the groom said to himself:

"I am terribly afraid of being cold to-night with my wife; not that--but still, this room should have been warmed."

He left the room and happened to meet Jeannette; thereupon he recalled the stout maiden’s functions; an idea occurred to him, he struck his forehead joyfully and called the servant.

"Jeannette, you will warm the marriage-bed to-night, do you hear?"

"Oh! monsieur wants his bed warmed?"

"Yes, Jeannette, it cannot fail to be very agreeable to both my wife and myself."

"All right, monsieur."

"By the way, Jeannette, just warm it with sugar; that is more refined and it smells very nice."

"With sugar? But, monsieur, you see----"

"Do as I tell you, Jeannette."

Robineau walked away and returned to the salon. Jeannette, when she was alone, scratched her ear, saying to herself:

"Warm his bed with sugar! How can I do that? I don’t understand that at all, myself!"

To obtain an explanation, Jeannette, who had seen Férulus go to his room, knocked at his door.

"It’s me, monsieur," she said.

"I’m asleep," Férulus replied from his bed.

"But I want you to explain something, monsieur."

"I’m asleep, I tell you! _Retro, Satanas!_"

"But the master wants me to warm his bed with sugar----"

"Warm it with the four spices and leave me in peace."

Unable to obtain any different reply, Jeannette went down to the kitchen, to Mademoiselle Cheval, and said to her:

"Do you know what to do to warm a bed with sugar?"

"Pardine! what a question!" replied the cook; "why, you put sugar in the warming pan. That’s all, my girl."

"And monsieur said it smelt good."

"Why, yes; it makes a kind of caramel!"

"Oho! it makes ca-a-ramel! that’s funny! I wouldn’t have thought that!"

Jeannette procured several lumps of sugar and went up to the nuptial chamber, saying to herself:

"What queer notions these rich people have! never mind, as it’s my work, I must obey."

And Jeannette crawled into the nuptial bed, which was surrounded by immense silk curtains; then she proceeded to sweeten her warming pan, saying to herself:

"I must make some caramel for ’em, if they like it!"

The bed prepared for the husband and wife was soft and luxurious, and Jeannette stretched herself out therein with keen enjoyment, thinking that she must warm it thoroughly for her master. But Jeannette had become very tired during the day, having had to dress the ladies and wait at dinner; and as she recalled what she had had to do, while dressing the bride, and the different dishes served at dinner, the buxom damsel yawned, closed her eyes and finally fell asleep in the nuptial bed.

Whist, chess and piquet came to an end; all the strangers took a solemn leave of the bride and groom and left the château. Edouard and Alfred went to their rooms, after wishing a good-night to Robineau, who squeezed their hands as if he were in convulsions. Eudoxie, whose vapors was brought on by the approach of that moment, had long since retired. Monsieur le marquis rose, walked up to Robineau and said in his ear:

"My son-in-law, see that everything goes off all right, I beg."

"Father-in-law, you may rest assured that it shall," replied Robineau, bowing low to Monsieur de la Pincerie.

At last the bridegroom took his bride’s hand and retired with her to the nuptial chamber.

They found the room lighted, but they looked upon that circumstance simply as an attention on the part of the servants. It was an enormous room, and the bed, which stood in an alcove, was concealed by the curtains. Before going thither, it was necessary to divest themselves of their garments, which Cornélie proceeded to do with the utmost tranquillity, while Robineau tossed his clothes on the floor in a twinkling and danced about the room, exclaiming:

"I am too happy! I believe I am going to be dizzy!"

"I trust that you are not going to be ill, monsieur!" said Cornélie, "for that would not afford me any amusement whatever."

Robineau made no reply, but rubbed his temples and forehead with eau de Mélisse.

At last Cornélie completed her toilet for the night and walked toward the alcove; but as she was about to draw the curtains aside, she stopped, fell back a step or two, turned pale and said:

"This is very strange!"

"Would you like some eau de Mélisse, too, my dear love?" inquired Robineau, who was at the other end of the room.

"No, monsieur, no--but come here,--walk softly, and listen; it seems to me that I hear someone breathing."

Robineau shuddered; he no longer desired to approach the bed, and his bride was compelled to go to fetch him. When he reached the alcove, he distinctly heard someone there. Thereupon his legs gave way under him and he was obliged to cling to a chair.

"Do you hear?" whispered Cornélie.

"Yes, yes, madame!"

"There is someone hidden here, who seems to be asleep."

"It’s the--the ghost from the Tower--come to disturb my bliss."

"Oh! no, monsieur! it’s no ghost; but it may very well be a thief!--Go, monsieur, ring, call for help."

"I haven’t the strength to move, madame!"

"Bah! what a man you are!"

Cornélie ran to the door, opened it, and rushed from the room, calling for help. When Robineau found that he was alone by the bed, he recovered his strength and ran after his wife, adding his cries to hers.

At the sound of their outcries, those inmates of the château who were not asleep ran to the spot with lights; they were curious to know what caused the bride and groom to shriek so loud. Most of them were half dressed. They found Robineau as pale as death, and Cornélie in an undress in which there was nothing to inspire alarm.

"What’s the matter? what is it?" asked Alfred and Edouard; while Monsieur de la Pincerie, who was the last to appear, strode angrily to Robineau, saying:

"I would like to know why you cause my daughter to shriek like this on the first night after her wedding? I have been married myself; but my wife didn’t utter the faintest shriek!"

"Why, it isn’t I who made my wife shriek, father-in-law; on the contrary, I am shrieking with her!--But, bring weapons! arm yourselves, quick! there’s someone in our bed! I thought of the ghost, but my wife says that it may be a robber."

"Let us see about it," said Alfred; "there are enough of us, we don’t need weapons. There can’t be a band of brigands in your alcove!"

And Alfred and Edouard went into the room, followed by the husband and wife, the marquis and the servants. When they reached the bed, the young men jerked the curtains aside and disclosed to view Jeannette snoring peacefully, with outstretched legs.

"It’s Jeannette!" exclaimed Alfred and Edouard, laughing heartily.

"It’s Jeannette!" echoed the others.

"What on earth is this girl doing in your bed, monsieur?" said Cornélie, gazing at Robineau in amazement.

"What, indeed!" said Monsieur de la Pincerie; "this maid-servant asleep in your bed--what does it mean, son-in-law? Corbleu! this has a very evil look----"

"Father-in-law, I swear that I have no idea what it means; I am innocence itself. Wake Jeannette; she must explain to us why she is here."

They shook the stout damsel, who yawned, stretched her arms, rubbed her eyes, and gazed about with a surprised expression, crying:

"Mon Dieu! have I been having a nap?"

"How do you happen to be in this bed?" demanded Cornélie, with a glance at Jeannette that was by no means amiable.

"How! Mon Dieu, madame, I ask your pardon; but it’s natural that when I warm your bed----"

"Warm my bed?"

"Didn’t you, monsieur, order me to warm your bed?"

"Yes, I admit it," said Robineau, "I thought that my wife would like it; but I didn’t tell you to go to bed in order to do it."

"Oh! monsieur, I’ll tell you how it is--there ain’t any warming pan in the château, and nobody’s thought to buy one; in fact, Monsieur Férulus said there wasn’t any use of it; he taught me to warm beds like the ancients; in fact, I’ve been warming his bed with my gravity, as he calls it, every day."

"How shocking!" cried Cornélie; "your great scholar is a scoundrel, monsieur; and I trust that he will leave my house to-morrow."

"I agree with you entirely, madame," said Robineau; "besides, he writes nothing but wretched stuff now."

"He is a villain!" said Monsieur de la Pincerie; "and if I were not almost in my shirt, I would go to him at once and pull his ears!"

"Meanwhile, I certainly shall not sleep in this bed," said Cornélie; "and as the one I have been sleeping in has been taken down, I shall pass the night with my sister."

"But, my dear wife, consider--" began Robineau.

"No, monsieur, my mind is made up; this will teach you not to entertain in your château people who behave in this way."

Cornélie took a candle, and, turning a deaf ear to her husband’s remonstrances, went to her sister’s room. The marquis approved his daughter’s conduct. Jeannette, who had risen from her couch, went away with the other servants.

"_You would have it so!_" said Alfred to Robineau, who, being left alone in the bridal chamber, went to bed, saying to himself:

"After all, perhaps it’s better that it should be so for to-night."